Clara's the Boss
by phantomofgallifrey
Summary: Clara shows the Doctor who's in control after they get into an argument. [Basically the smuttiest thing I've ever written.]


**Very mature themes. Smut galore. Be forewarned. **

**I own nothing.**

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"Good god you frustrate me sometimes!" Clara screeched at the Doctor as they entered her flat.

"Sometimes?" the Doctor yelled back, slamming the door shut. "You get upset every time I open my mouth, might as well write me a script," he growled.

"If you had just let me handle it myself," Clara screamed back at him.

The Doctor scoffed sarcastically, "You didn't seem to have a very good handle on the situation. I can't trust you to be in charge of anything," he waved her off, shaking his head. Clara scowled at the back of his head and stormed off to her bedroom.

She sat with her arms crossed on the foot of the bed, steaming furiously. "Can't trust me," she repeated his words. "And he calls me the control-freak. He can't handle not being in charge!" She sighed when she realized she was yelling to thin air. He was always telling her what to do, just to get on her nerves. He knew she hated it. She wouldn't lie, she liked being in control of the situation; but the Doctor, the new Doctor, never let her get a word in edgewise anymore. She stood up, angrily pacing about her room before kicking the wall.

Clara stayed in her room the rest of the night, avoiding the Doctor. He didn't even call for her. She assumed he was still in her sitting room, she hadn't heard the TARDIS leave. She peered out, barely opening the door. He sat on her sofa, arms crossed, angrily glaring at the television, which wasn't on. She gave up on the thought of him leaving and started getting ready to go to bed. He could sit there all he wanted, she wasn't going to apologize.

Clara was flipping through clothes in her closet looking for her nightdress when she happened upon a piece of clothing she'd had for years but never worn. She reached in to the very back of her closet and pulled out the black corset she had bought back when she was in University and was in a rebellious phase. Clara smiled, biting her lip, and changed into it. It took her awhile with the strings but eventually she got it on.

She was pinning fishnet stockings to the garter around her leg when the Doctor knocked on her door. "Clara," he called quietly.

"Give me a minute," she checked herself in the mirror, making sure the bright red on her lips hadn't moved. She looked herself over. The corset had pushed her breasts up practically to her chin, looking like they were trying to burst out of the confinement. Clara quickly pulled on the highest heels she owned and opened the door.

The Doctor looked as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head. He shifted his gaze to the ceiling above her head, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "You seem taller," he kept his eyes on the ceiling.

"Would hope so," she lifted her leg. "Heels."

The Doctor wet his lips for the third time, "Ah."

"You going to apologize?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No, I've got nothing to apologize for," he gained his voice back.

"Oh I think you have quite a few things to apologize for," Clara countered.

The Doctor shook his head, "If anything, you should be the one apologizing to me."

Clara laughed, "Oh Doctor, you are so wrong," she slid the toe of her shoe up his trouser leg.

"I don't have anything t-to be sorry for," he stuttered when her foot caressed his calf.

"Then I'll have to pry it out of you," she shrugged, pulling the lapels of his jacket. Clara kicked the door shut with her foot.

"Clara," the Doctor coughed nervously, "What are you doing?" he looked around the room for an escape.

"Well you're not going to admit you were wrong, so I have to punish you," she gave him a devilish smile.

The Doctor laughed, "Clara I'm much too old for time-outs."

Clara shook her head, biting her lip. "Not exactly what I had in mind." She hooked her leg under his, forcing him to fall backwards onto the floor. "You either admit I'm the boss, or you're going to have to suffer whatever consequences I come up with," she pressed her heel into his chest.

The Doctor laughed again, only this time with a hint of fear. "You're joking."

She pressed harder on his chest, "Try me," Clara pinned his arms above his head. He avoided resisting, though he could easily throw her off him, if he had wanted to.

He scoffed, "You are absolutely ridiculous." He laughed but stopped when he heard a metallic click and cool metal against his wrists.

"You will listen to every word I say, and you won't speak unless the words are 'Yes, Clara, or Mistress.' Got it?"

The Doctor's hearts where thumping hard, Clara had never been so dominate with him. "Yes…mistress." He could feel tightness in his trousers as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Good," Clara praised. She unbuttoned his jacket and shirt, tugging the sleeves over the metal handcuffs with some difficulty. "Lay on your stomach," she instructed. He rose from the floor, leaning over onto her bed. From behind him Clara unzipped his trousers, pulling them down his legs to his ankles. She did the same with his undergarments, lightly running her hand over the newly exposed skin. "I quite like this position you're in," she admired her handiwork. The Doctor gasped when she smacked her hand against him.

"Clara what in god's name are you doing back there?!" he momentarily forgot his instructions, immediately wincing when he felt her hand again, this time a bit harder.

"Do I have to remind you of the words you're allowed to say?" He shook his head. "Alright then." She gently rubbed at the now red skin, soothing him. "Hope I didn't spank too hard. We've still got a long way to go." The Doctor breathed in short, shuddering breaths. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or outright terrified of this new side to Clara. It was obviously a side she kept well hid.

"On your back," she ordered. He flipped over and she pulled his trousers down off his ankles and onto the rug with the rest of his clothes. "You look so vulnerable this way, I love it," she flashed a wicked grin. Clara slid her knickers down and straddled the Doctor, putting her knees on either side of his head. "I think you know what I want," she said in a low voice. The Doctor lifted his head up to fit right between her legs and licked up her centre. Clara leaned her head back and sighed as he continued flicking his tongue on her. She grabbed his hair, pressing him firmly against her. When she started panting, she pulled him off her. She wasn't going to let him have the upper hand. "That's enough."

Clara navigated her way down his body and dipped her head, taking him fully in her mouth. His hips bucked against her mouth. She continued moving her mouth on him until he started wiggling. She could tell he was close to coming and promptly stopped. The Doctor made a choking sound as he was about to protest, but didn't want to get in trouble for not saying the allowed words she had given him. Clara smirked, "Something you want?" she teased. The Doctor groaned, frustrated. "Don't worry; I'll let you come soon enough. But first I want to watch you suffer." She placed herself on the bed with her groin strategically placed in his line of view. She sucked on her fingers and rubbed them against her clit, gasping slightly. Clara stared the Doctor straight in the eyes as she slid her fingers inside her wet folds. She thrust her fingers, moaning the Doctor's name. His eyes were fixed on her, his tongue resting against his bottom lip. Clara removed her fingers, sucking on them.

Clara pushed herself off the bed, grabbing something from a drawer at the bottom of her nightstand. "Bought this back in Uni when I was going through a kinky period," she hooked the straps around her hips. "Never thought I'd get to use it." She stroked the toy she'd adorned, the small nub on the inside rubbing against her clit. The Doctor's breathing increased speed dramatically. "I'll be gentle I promise," Clara whispered. Though she was enjoying dominating him, she would never forgive herself if she hurt him. The Doctor felt a cool tingle as she pressed her finger against him. He winced slightly when she went further, but it was far from unbearable. "Alright," she gently stroked his hip with her thumb, comforting him. It all happened rather quickly. There was pain, of course there would be, but as soon as his body adjusted to the 'intrusion' he felt immense amounts of pleasure replaced whatever pain he first felt. Clara grabbed onto his legs, moving faster. The Doctor moaned her name loudly. She hummed in approval. Clara increased her tempo until she and the Doctor were both shaking. She hit his prostate a final time, and he outright screamed as he came. Clara removed from him, lying next to him, panting and gasping.

They sat in silence for what seemed like eternity. The Doctor looked over to his mistress. "Clara-" he panted, "You are the boss. I'll never deny it ever again."

Clara gently stroked the side of his face, calmly shushing him until he was breathing normally. He closed his eyes at her gentle touch. "Don't worry about it," she whispered softly.


End file.
